


here comes the sun

by LadySilvertongue



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, No Slash, Thor (Marvel) Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2020-02-26 17:02:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18721267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadySilvertongue/pseuds/LadySilvertongue
Summary: Sometimes, Thor wonders how he ended up in the dark place he often found himself in, some days spiraling in a rage, out of control, and numb to the world on others. He supposes it's the culmination of all the bad decisions he'd taken, all the times he acted without thinking - he supposes they've finally caught up with him and he's getting what he deserves. It isn't fair, but then again, when was his life ever fair?And now, here he is again - the light of responsibility beaming down on him, the sun merciless in its radiance. He doesn't like it - doesn't like the sun at all. Thor would much rather stay in his dark place, thank you very much. But he might not have a choice.In which Thor is given his final chance, and finally does it right. Canon-divergence.





	1. Ruin

**Author's Note:**

> So, I watched Endgame a week ago, and I'm going to watch it again soon - and in the in-between, I've been reading a ton of Thor-centric works, because though I loved seeing him on screen again, it was just... lacking. How he was portrayed was as comedy relief, and I admit to laughing so I really don't have any ground to stand on to criticize, but my heart hurt so much for this much beloved hero. They showed him as a joke and a punchline, and though he got his own moments of glory despite where he’s at, the darker parts are left for us to put together.
> 
> So... here I am, writing this. I don't have any personal experience with alcoholism or PTSD, nor have I ever been clinically diagnosed with depression, so please don't take this personal interpretation as an accurate depiction. Anyways, enough rambling.

In the days following the decimation, Thor thinks back, but he can’t seem to remember what he’d done right after Thanos had snapped his fingers, nor the hours after that. He knows that he had raged, that he had swung Stormbreaker like a madman, that he’d called forth a storm that turned the ashes of their comrades into a thick sludge with the mud... but beyond that, he doesn’t recall anything but the resounding ‘snap’ he’d been hearing in his ears since then.

 

_ (Loki’s neck had also been snapped- but the sound was a crunch. Curious. He hears that too.) _

 

Thanos’s taunting words also floated around in his head. Sometimes the voice sounds smug, sometimes accusing, and sometimes Thor thinks it isn't the mad titan's voice at all,

 

‘You should have gone for the head.’

 

The days that passed were also a blur, one stretching into the other, with the rise and fall of the moon  _ (because the sun will never shine on him again)  _ seemingly unreliable in telling him whether it has really been days or if it was just him. Thor admits it might just be because he isn’t sleeping, but that’s besides the point.

 

The only thing clear to him now is how different everyone is, which comes as no surprise to him.

 

He’s not blind to how the midgardians are around him, and he can see it in their eyes- besides the pain that was ever present in every pair- there was also accusation and a weariness. He noticed it especially in his fellow avengers.

 

It was in the way the captain would look at him, him directly, when he said that they needed to find a way to make this right, or at least find a way to get a hold of Tony and the others. It’s as if the man is asking him specifically, and Thor has failed yet again because he has no answers.   _ (He doesn’t know how to make this right, and he doesn’t know if he can ever make this right even if he had a way. Stark and the others are probably gone too and it’s his fault that they might never find out.) _

 

It was in the way that Banner shut him out and seemed keen on disappearing whenever he tried to look for the man, despite being the only one Thor can talk to openly about what had happened - the only one who knows about Sakaar and Asgard and the Statesman.  _ (Gone. Asgard, gone. His people, slaughtered.) _

 

It was in the steel of Natasha’s eyes and voice, curt with her answers and always with a sharp edge, her distance and her elusiveness reminding Thor of Loki’s own when the silvertongue wished to make his displeasure known.  _ (Loki. Gone. Forever.) _

 

It was in the way that his newest comrade, the rabbit, would glare at the handle of Stormbreaker, no doubt judging Thor unworthy to wield the weapon that the tree had helped to forge with its own arm.  _ (Gone too.) _

 

Thor knew they blamed him, and how could they not? He blamed himself. He had the opportunity, and yet still, they lost.

 

Because he did not aim for the head.

 

Because he wanted to see whether he could instill the fear of death into Thanos’s eyes as the titan had instilled them in Loki’s.

 

_ (Bloodshot, wide with fear, with a plea he could not get past his crushed throat and red frothing lips.) _

 

Because he, Thor Odinson - no, Thor, son of no one, had failed. Odin would be ashamed of him. He would not deem Thor his son. No son of Odin’s would still be so naive, so stupid, so brash.

 

Never has the pain of failure hurt him as much as it did now, with the weight of an infinite number of deaths pressing on his shoulders.

 

Mother.

 

Father.

 

Asgard.

 

Heimdall.

 

Stark.

 

Everyone.

 

Loki. The worst of it all. How many times had he been the trigger for his brother’s death? How many times did he bring his little brother to it’s grasp and all but pushed him towards it?

 

And now, with no clear path forward, and no way to go back and undo his failure, Thor is lost. If he’s being honest with himself though, he has been lost since… since he cannot remember. The only glaring difference now is that he is completely alone, and deservedly so.

 

Completely alone, and he doesn’t know how or if there is a way to move past everything.

 

Still, he forces himself to help with the work in Wakanda- it’s the only thing keeping him from spiraling into much darker thoughts. He helps in clearing the battlefield, in searching for their dead, in treating the wounded  _ (though he isn’t adept and would sooner bring harm than good, but he supposes their healer is taking pity on him) _ \- if anyone were to bid him to polish their streets with his tongue, he would, lest it helps him pay for his transgressions against them.

 

_ (But he knows in his heart, no matter what he does, he will never be able to make up for his failure.) _

 

-

 

When there is nothing left to be done, the avengers - what’s left of them - return to their headquarters, and Thor rides the Quintjet with them, not trusting himself to get there without causing more problems.

 

_ (Incompetent. Pathetic.) _

 

He can feel the judgement in the other avengers eyes as soon as he sits down, and Thor almost wants to call them out on it, to ask them to say it plainly, but he holds his tongue because he can’t bear the thought of confrontation. Can’t bear the thought of them affirming what he already knew. That the blame rests solely on his shoulders.

 

_ (Because he is to blame. Only him.) _

 

So Thor holds in his grief, his wrath, his fear, his loneliness. He keeps his aimlessness, his insecurities, and all the other emotions roiling and warring inside of him and buried - and he can feel them eating him up. It’s vast and empty, yet somehow, it feels like he’s suffocating. It’s as if he has the most unknown parts of the universe inside of him, and the most volatile ones as well, writhing and uncontrollable, seeking to destroy itself.

 

“Thor.”

 

He snaps up at the mention of his name, and it’s Steve who has called his attention, and Thor notices only now how miserably tired the man looks.

 

_ (Defeat is not a good look for him.) _

 

“Captain?”

 

Steve tries to hide a wince,

 

“Can you… I mean… is there any way for you to look for Tony? I remember you mentioning someone who could find anyone anywhere as long as they don’t hide- or anyone at all who can help- maybe some of your friends? Someone from your world?”

 

Silence.

 

“Thor?”

 

Thor can barely suppress his own grimace, his chest clenching painfully and his tenuous grip on his emotions thinning even more,

 

“I cannot, captain. I am truly sorry. Heimdall… he is… Heimdall is dead. I cannot see anywhere without his eyes,” Thor manages to get out, and he hates how garbled his voice is, how much he mumbles. Mother would chide him, as would his brother. Another painful tug in his chest, and this one almost squeezes the breath out of him. “I don’t… I don’t know where the remnants of my people are.”

 

And oh, the thought of being the last of his kind and the last of his kin, with no one to blame but himself.

 

“Oh,” is all Steve can say as well. None of them know what to say. None of them know how to talk to each other in the wake of all their losses.

 

Their losses. Because of Thor’s failure. 

 

‘You should have gone for the head.’

 

The rest of the ride is spent in silence, yet it’s much, much too loud. Still, if any of them notices how dark the skies are or how the sound of thunder and storm follow them throughout the flight to the headquarters, they don’t mention it.

 

-

 

_ (Snap.) _

 

It’s all Thor can hear in his ears, always ringing. All he can think about as he shuts himself in his own quarters after they land. Nobody stops him, nobody comes for him. Not for a few hours yet, anyways, not until his mind has twisted around itself in the silence.

 

_ (I promise you, brother, the sun will shine on us again.) _

 

_ (Snap.) _

 

_ (Loki’s broken neck. His sightless eyes. His parted lips. Dead. Gone.) _

 

_ (Snap.) _

 

_ (The groan of metal as the Statesman came apart at the seams.) _

 

_ (Snap.) _

 

_ (Heimdall’s last prayer to send the Hulk barreling back to Midgard, his last breath when Thanos stabs him in the heart.) _

 

_ (Snap.) _

 

_ (The screams of his people as they were slaughtered. The moans of his warriors as they lay dying. The pleading of women and children as they burned.) _

 

_ (Snap) _

 

_ (Chaos all around him. Death all around him.) _

 

_ (Snap.) _

 

_ (Millions, no, billions of lives all across the universe - all but ash.) _

 

_ (Snap) _

 

‘You should have gone for the head.’

 

_ - _

 

Thor doesn’t know how much time he spends in his own company before they call for him, and they send Natasha. There must be something in his face, something Natasha must see that she hadn’t before, because her eyes soften as they catch his.

 

“We’ve got something,” she says, leaning against the door-frame. She looks better than she did on the jet, so Thor assumes perhaps all of them have had the time to at least try for a semblance of normalcy. All of them except himself, apparently, because even in that, he finds himself failing.

 

He doesn’t want their pity, though, so he squares his shoulders and straightens his back, and speaks as though he’s not panicking just by saying the name,

 

“Thanos?”

 

“No… not yet. But we got a signal from Tony, though we can’t track the exact coordinates. Too weak.”

 

Thor feels his false eye twitch, almost as if he’d been slapped, but no, Natasha didn’t call him weak, she was talking about the signal.

 

_ (It’s true though, he is weak. If he were strong, it wouldn’t have come to this.) _

 

So he nods and waits for her to leave, but she doesn’t. Natasha’s eyes on him feel unnerving, he could almost physically feel them carefully pulling at the fragile thread that’s keeping him grounded, but she says nothing until he stands up and follows her out.

 

“How are you holding up? Feeling alright?”

 

The question comes as a surprise, and Thor takes a while to respond, wondering how much of his heart he should put on his sleeve. After a moment, he answers with a smile that must look strange as he repeats some of the words he'd told the rabbit not so long ago,

 

“Absolutely. Rage, vengeance, anger, loss, regret. I'm absolutely alright.”

 

“Hold onto that. We might need it soon.”

 

-

 

There is a new member in their odd group. She introduces herself as Carol Danvers and offers to scour the universe for signs of Tony after they explain to her what has happened, and he can already feel her judgement too, despite nobody telling her that Thor was /this/ close to preventing this mess.

 

‘You should have gone for the head.’

 

Thor wants to offer her his help- he really does, he can summon the Bifrost now with Stormbreaker, after all, but his words get caught in his throat. He swallows the lump down, letting his gaze roam over those of them gathered instead.

 

There’s Steve, Natasha, Bruce, and Rocket. Rhodey came back too, though he wasn’t on the Quintjet, and Thor struggles to remember when they had met. 

 

_ (Incompetent and selfish, he couldn’t even remember. He should have spent more time with his friends - had he even the right to call himself their friend? Is that even how they saw him? Or was he just a nuisance?) _

 

They discuss their next course of action, and Thor doesn’t see why they called him down for this. They could have handled this on their own. They had been doing fine on their own since he’d left them years ago after Ultron. They fared better before he came back.

 

Before he came back with Thanos nipping at his heels. Before he came back and all but led the mad titan right to the stones. Before he got the ball rolling for the horror that was their reality now. 

 

_ (How many more deaths did you cause across the universe as Thanos hounded your steps, besides those who went with the ash?) _

 

_ (Too many.) _

 

Thor feels like he might vomit, so he stands and leaves the room without a word, and they don’t go after him. They don’t need him. Nobody needs him.

 

_ (Better off without. They are better off without him.) _

 

_ (Snap.) _

 

‘You should have gone for the head.’

 

-

 

It’s another few days  _ (weeks?) _ until they send Natasha to call him again. She looks frazzled this time around, and not a trace of the soft understanding is on her face,

 

“Tony’s been found.”

 

“That is good news.”

 

Natasha shakes her head, “You need to get your ass outside.”

 

And so Thor does, and Stark is there - severely dehydrated and weak from being stranded on Titan, of all places - and Thor learns that not only had Stark lost ‘the kid’, Thor didn’t want to ask who it was, he learns too that Rocket’s entire team fell, as well as the sorcerer he and Loki had met. What was his name? Strange?

 

That isn’t the end of it either, they learn that Barton’s entire family was also victim to the decimation, and the man himself could not be found. Natasha insisted he yet lived. Thor thinks they should have checked in with him sooner.

 

_ (It’s his fault. That they couldn't find the man was probably his fault too. They should all know it now. He had failed.) _

 

His failure, his pride, his need to inflict pain on the titan that he himself had faced - why did he always have to fail? Thor wonders if he was ever worthy of anything at all. Vaguely, he acknowledges that Stark had just asked something about him.

 

“Oh, he’s pissed. He thinks he failed, which of course he did, but there’s a lot of that going around.” Rocket says, and the open admission that the rabbit thinks he failed hurts more than he cares to admit, even though he expected it.

 

Thor tunes out to the rest of the conversation, which is little more than his comrades bickering and pointing fingers at each other, which he finds kind of funny since in the end he knows - he /knows/ that they’ll inevitably point to him. The rabbit was only the first to openly admit this, but they’d all see it soon enough.

 

Stark collapses, and that ends whatever arguments they were having. They decide linger about as their newest ally once again offers to retrieve something that might help.

 

Thor wishes he could do that too, but he would only fail Tony if he tried.

 

He retreats again, in shame, and each time that he leaves and nobody bats an eye, he leaves a bit of himself in the room to shrivel up and die too.

 

-

 

They meet once more in the morning when Danvers returns with whatever it was she’d gotten for Tony.

 

Thor has been sitting at the dining table since he woke up from the fitful doze he’d unexpectedly fallen into earlier, but he doesn’t know for how long he’s been there, once again tangled in his head.

 

Steve had set a plate of food in front of him earlier, and he’s been half-heartedly eating bits and pieces, though he isn’t really hungry. He hasn’t been in a while, and he hasn’t needed sleep either, but exhaustion is slowly creeping up along his spine, so he gives minimum effort to care for himself just so he can still function.

 

In case they need him.

 

_ (Unlikely.) _

 

When talk of Thanos is once again brought up, Danvers wants to go confront him. Steve agrees, and so does Natasha, but Banner isn’t so sure.

 

Thor just sits idly as they continue to press the need to do right for everyone who had vanished.

 

‘You should have gone for the head.’

 

_ (Snap.) _

 

And just like that, the anger is back, because there’s that blasted ringing in his ears from the mad titan’s deed, there’s the voice in his head that never leaves, and the bubble of something far uglier than his need for vengeance.

 

He wants blood. He wants to lob off that bastard’s head.

 

Thor gets up, he feels taut with unreleased tension that he’s surprised he’s not lighting up, and stops in front of Danvers. He shoots his hand out to call for Stormbreaker, and the weapon must sense his bloodlust because it eagerly flies into his palm.

 

Danvers looks at him evenly, not giving away a single thing.

 

“I like this one,” he tells them, and he hasn’t spoken ever since Natasha had asked him how he was. His own voice sounds strange to him. He looks from Danvers to the rest, and they have all regained a look of determination in their eyes. Thor smiles, but it isn’t a happy one.

 

“Let’s go get this son of a bitch.”

 

-

 

They arrive too late, much too late, and Thor wonders why he didn’t just transport them to this place with Stormbreaker. Why hadn’t he even thought of it until it was too late? Though it wouldn’t have mattered if he did bring them here through the Bifrost, since the activity they had observed of the stones was from two days ago. Thor still blames himself.

 

_ (Always late. Always a failure. Not enough, not enough, not enough.) _

 

He barely hears their conversation, the only thing his mind can seem to focus on right now is that voice - that voice that was in his head all the time, that taunted him at all hours and even plagued his dreams.

 

_ (Snap.) _

 

The ringing fills his ears again and drowns out everyone else, everyone else but Thanos, and Thor’s vision tunnels and sharpens at the same time, and his chest is filled with things he cannot put into words let alone explain.

 

He feels sick again.

 

Everything is trying to crawl out of his skin. His mouth feels numb and filled with sawdust, his tongue swollen. His head weighs like lead. His heart and lungs constrict and is filled with broken glass. His stomach is twisting and writing as though full of snakes a thousand strong. The blood beneath his skin feels like it’s boiling, everything ablaze with the eternal flame they had used to summon Surtur. Surtur who razed Asgard to the ground, leaving them all on a vulnerable ship for Thanos to find and slaughter with ease.

 

Thanos, who erased half of all living things. Thanos, who drove Asgard into non-existence. Thanos, who murdered his little brother.

 

Thanos who is right there in front of him.

 

_ (Snap.) _

 

‘You should have gone for the head.’

 

_ (Snap.) _

 

“I am… inevitable.”

 

_ (Snap.) _

 

He can’t hear anything at this point, just the blasted ringing. He’s in panic.

 

Thor doesn’t feel himself move, he just does, and oh- his ax passes through Thanos’s neck like melted butter. Effortless and just sliding, and there is a squelch of purple blood, and his ears are still ringing and he can’t breathe.

 

The slight look of surprise in the mad titan’s dead eyes makes him want to bring Stormbreaker down again and cleave the head in half. He wants to dismember limb from body and keep hacking until nothing is left but chunks and pieces. Wants to sever muscles and bones and organs, tear everything apart and leave the flesh to grow putrid, like how Thor himself feels, he wants-

 

“What… what did you do?”

 

A moment of temporary clarity, and Thor feels his lips moving, his voice without emotion,

 

_ (He has a voice?) _

 

“I went for the head.”

 

-

 

He leaves the suffocating confines of the small hut and the horrified stares and stunned silence of his comrades - 

 

_ (Are they his comrades, though? Did they think him mad? Did they finally see how much of a failure he is?) _

 

Rocket sounded mad. Natasha and Steve’s eyes looked a curious mixture of complete horror and anger and defeat. He couldn’t see Bruce inside the hulk-buster, but Thor knew his reaction was probably nothing good either. Thor doesn’t care to look at Danvers.

 

As soon as he is outside and he feels the sun on his face, he completely loses it.

 

Because the sun should never shine upon him again, but he can’t remember why, and he needs to, it’s important.

 

_ (Snap.) _

 

_ (Failure.) _

 

_ (Fool.) _

 

_ (Can you do nothing right?) _

 

He can’t breath, and Thor knows they will come after him and demand things of him once the shock wears off, accuse him, and berate him on how thoughtless he is.  _ (And it’s the truth. He’s so /stupid/! They could have kept the titan prisoner and tortured him for answers or for vengeance or something-) _

 

And Thor… Thor can’t take anything else today- he can’t /take it anymore/, so he doesn’t give them the chance to break him some more and summons the Bifrost with Stormbreaker.

 

-

 

Where the weapon brings him isn’t where he wants to be, but the others will take a while yet to get back home.

 

_ (Home? He has no home. This isn’t his home. He is an intruder here.) _

 

He bypasses those who try to talk to him, Rhodey and Lady Pepper and Stark, and heads straight for his quarters and barricades himself inside.

 

Thor paces, Stormbreaker had yet to be cleaned, but to Hel with the titan’s blood, and his being, and everything else. To Hel with whatever was left, because Thor had sought to fix his mistake, to take off Thanos’s bloody /head/ yet it fixed /nothing/. On the contrary, it made everything worse.

 

He was still enraged, still in grief and mourning, still empty and alone, and still a fucking failure. He’d thought to make things right and still- still- a failure.

 

_ (Not just a failure, but a fool many times over as well.) _

 

Everything Thor did, the consequences of his actions always backfired and weighed against him tenfold, and the monster inside of him that’s kept stealing his breath these past few weeks was at it again, but it’s hunger is much stronger now than it had ever been.

 

_ (Would that it would rob him of breath and life and spare the rest of the cosmos from his existence.) _

 

His vision is darkening at the edges. Thor spins around, trembling all over with a heat behind his natural eye, the telltale sign of tears _(and isn't that just pathetic?)_ as his mind scrambles for something to focus on. He spots the ice box- fridge, his mind corrects, as though it /matters/- and he stumbles towards it and falls on his knees, yanking it open.

 

A stash of Asgardian mead is there from the last time he’d been here, but there is only so much left, and he will likely never be able to taste it again when this is gone because Asgard is gone too, but he finishes everything anyways.

 

_ (When had he left those here? When had that been? He wishes he could go back to that time.) _

 

Midgardian brews did nothing for him, but they burned. Thor opened every bottle and downed each one to the last drop as well, relishing in the heat that passed his throat and settled in his gut, burning away at the tendrils that were squeezing his chest.

 

He downs a couple more until nothing is left, and the warmth fades to the cold and hollow emptiness again.

 

He gets up and throws bottle after bottle against the far wall and falls to his knees again once all that’s left is shattered glass. Thor leans forward until his forehead touches the ground, shutting his eyes tight and covering his ears, but they don’t block out the voices and the ringing. He needs to block everything out - but it doesn’t make anything stop. 

 

He just needs everything to stop.

 

There are new voices in his head now, those from his past as well as his present, and voices he doesn’t even know. It’s so much worse.

 

‘You should have gone for the head.’

 

‘What have you done?!’

 

‘You idiot!’

 

‘You don’t think, brother! You never do!’

 

‘You stubborn boy.’

 

‘What were you trying to accomplish?!’

 

‘Why are you being so difficult?’

 

‘What the hell is wrong with you?!’

 

‘Why? Why did you let me die!!’

 

‘Failure.’

 

‘It’s all your fault.’

 

“You ruin everything.”

 

It takes him a moment to realize that the last one isn’t in his head, but comes from his own mouth.


	2. Stages of Grief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor deals with his grief and his guilt. Sufficed to say that he doesn’t handle either very well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, thanks to everyone who took an interest in my writing! I was honestly not expecting anything so it made me feel happy knowing some of you enjoyed it (shoutout to the people in the comments and those who gave kudos! You guys are too generous). So, second chapter... hahah. What can I say? Hmm.. well uhh, the most commonly known are the five stages of grief, but I based mine on the extended version. I’m not sure how well it translates or if I’ve portrayed it right, so once again, this is just my interpretation.
> 
> Also trigger warning for possibly upsetting thoughts of death, and a part where there’s a bit of blood and violence.

Denial

Thor left before anyone could come and convince him not to, and willed Stormbreaker to just take him away. That was two months ago, and he’s found himself all across the nine realms and beyond in the short amount of time.

He doesn’t really have a goal in his traveling, not at first, he just drifts and lets his weapon take him wherever it pleased. He frequents the wilds of the realms he lands in, mostly because he doesn’t want to face the fact that the decimation didn’t just happen on Midgard, but he could still feel it in the stillness that surrounded him there. It was everywhere.

Thor isolates himself and flees as soon as he starts to feel off about whatever planet he’s in, and soon, it becomes a game of cat and mouse, where he runs from his past and has momentary peace before running again, never allowing it to catch up with him. If he doesn’t see the effects of his failure, then maybe, just maybe, he can pretend it never happened.

(Now, not only a failure, but a coward too. The list of his flaws grew daily.)

In this regard, he’s extremely grateful to have his weapon and its ability to harness the power of the Bifrost. Stormbreaker doesn’t feel like Mjolnir did, though. Where his hammer would sing and thrum in his grasp, Stormbreaker was cold and silent - it was disconcerting sometimes, to feel so disconnected from the weapon, but Thor doesn’t like to dwell on these things. When he does, his thoughts circle back to the things he can never get back.

He supposes that Stormbreaker is just cross with him because it hasn’t tasted blood since he beheaded the mad titan.

It isn’t because he’s not worthy. Right?

(Fool. He knows the truth. He knows that he has failed even as a warrior. He is not worthy to possess such a fine weapon.)

-

He doesn’t know when it happens or what sparks the change, but soon, instead of just drifting aimlessly across the realms, Thor starts searching instead.

He starts to look for his people who managed to flee with Valkyrie. (Useless king.)

He starts to look for Aesir who were perhaps not in Asgard when he brought Ragnarok right to its doorstep. (Destroyer.)

For anyone who has had knowledge of the stones, perhaps he could recreate them. (Failure.)

Anything. (Desperate.)

If he’s being really honest with himself, he searches for Loki too. (Please, little brother. Let it be a trick.)

Thor knows it’s probably madness and the desperate loneliness that drives him, he knows that he should just get himself back to Midgard where he could surround himself with his friends - let them judge him, then let them help him, but Thor just… can’t.

Surely, he isn’t the only one remaining, right? He can’t be. And surely too, Loki should be out there somewhere. His brother was crafty and likely didn’t want to be found.

The alternative was something he couldn’t accept.

(The only remaining member of the royal family. The last Aesir. The lone survivor.)

So he starts to frequent villages and cities whenever he lands on more developed realms or planets, asking around whenever he comes into contact with the Vanir of Vanaheim or the light elves of Aflheim, and other intergalactic beings. He frequents brothels and innkeeps and partakes in carnal pleasures, indulges in their food and drink - and gods, their drinks do hit the spot - and flees when he notices that he’s getting too comfortable. (He shouldn’t stay in one place for too long, lest people find out about his failure.)

Thor goes to Muspelheim to see if the fire demons there have anything new for him under torture before he lays waste to their lives and small parts of their realm (and takes great pleasure in it, because this is the weregild he demands for Surtur reducing his own home to a fiery inferno - if he could erase this entire realm… but no, he would not be so brash as he once was in his youth. He will do it slowly, and savor each demise-)

He even goes so far as to venture to Jotunheim again - he hasn’t set foot there after his banishment - but only the eternal winter greets him. The giants are no doubt wary and don’t want to be found either. (If there were even any left. Loki’s people were a proud kind, but had suffered tremendous blows. That is on his conscience too.)

Thor roams for eight more months, making trips to Nidavellir, Svaltarfheim, Niflheim, he goes to Xandar and even back to Sakaar, filling his days with pointless searching. 

He denies whatever whisperings his mind conjures for him.

(Alone. Failure. Destroyer.)

(Run away. Run away from the truth, because he’s nothing but a coward. He’s no hero.)

-

Testing

Inevitably, he finds himself back in Midgard, right where he landed when his father had banished him all those years ago. A lifetime ago, where his only problems were wooing Jane Foster (dead too, no doubt) and proving himself worthy. Only thinking of himself, and not anyone else. 

Likely, Thor was also responsible for Loki letting himself go that time, his little brother choosing to fall through space instead of dealing with him.

(And even now, he’s left his little brother’s body floating around in the cosmos.)

-

It takes another week, but naturally, SHIELD contacts him, and Thor goes when he is asked to return to the avengers headquarters. There, he learns that the group split apart again. Tony wanted nothing to do with the team anymore, Steve gave up as well to ‘help people where he could’, and Banner, as usual, was secluding himself. Thor didn’t dare ask about Barton. 

The only ones left who were still operating were Rocket and the blue girl Nebula (blue, like Loki if he revealed his Jotunn skin), Rhodes, and Danvers. There was also the representative from Wakanda, but Thor never learned her name.

Natasha is the only one there.

“You’ve been gone a while.”

“I was looking for something.”

She doesn’t bother asking for what, and he’s secretly glad. Still, Thor can’t decipher the meaning behind the look she gives him, so he avoids her gaze, scratching at his beard and clearing his throat.

“Are you planning to stay?” Natasha asks,

“I can’t. I haven’t found it yet.”

(What are you looking for?)

(Nothing.)

(Everything.)

(Don’t know.)

(Run away, little coward.)

“Then let’s help each other find it. We’re still a team, big guy. We could use your help too.”

(He wants to weep. She still believes he can help.)

(He doesn’t deserve it, but lends her his assistance anyways.)

-

In the end, it isn’t Thor who finds his people though, but Rocket. Scouring the galaxy with Nebula, they stumbled upon a dozen small vessels. Less than two hundred Aesir men and women survived, and a handful of Sakaarians. 

His once proud people look haggard and lifeless when they are brought back, and Thor feels a wash of shame. Feels disgusted with himself.

“My king, it’s good to see you again,” Valkyrie says when they meet for the first time in months, and Thor tastes bile at the back of his throat, “Where’s Bruce and lackey?”

(Banner, hiding.)

(Loki… Dead. Gone.)

(Why do you call me king when I’ve done nothing but bring shame?)

(Do you blame me too?)

His silence is enough for Val to draw her conclusions, but unlike the avengers, she isn’t one to talk around him or walk on eggshells as though he’s really /that/ delicately pathetic - she gets in his face and tells him they have a lot to do.

Tells him that his people need their king.

Thor can’t run away anymore.

He doesn’t know whether he appreciates being brought back and forced to face his reality, or resentful that he can no longer keep pretending.

It’s then that they throw themselves into treaties with the government - or what remains of it, anyways - about setting up New Asgard. They are welcomed, however reluctantly, and Thor buries himself in work around their settlement. It takes a while to get everyone at ease, but once they do, Thor starts to believe that perhaps he can make this work.

Everything starts to get better.

Another half a year comes to pass and Thor thinks, this is it, he can find his purpose again- has found it again- in rebuilding his people. He can move forward.

He can still be a good king

He can still be worthy.

He can still make up for his failures.

He is moving forward.

He is moving on.

(Fool. You will never make things right.)

-

Anger

All it takes to break his streak is a song, and a flash of gold and green.

-

He’d been enjoying a moment of reprieve from his negotiations and his court, choosing to lay around in the shack he’d claimed as his home when it happened.

It wasn’t Korg or Miek’s fault, really. They were just looking for a bit of a distraction, and Thor supposes he’s the one to blame since he was hogging the television and the house to himself, not to mention he’d never asked for the items in the first place.

He admits, he didn’t even notice it at first, being as the Sakaarians were but a speck in the small dingy window in the living room. If it weren’t for the damn song, he wouldn’t have ever noticed anything at all, and Thor thinks that the Norns must like tormenting him.

It happens like this;

He stands just as the television screen starts to become a little fuzzy because of the damn reception - then Thor listens as an upbeat tune starts to play on the radio by the window.

He walks over to it, listening and nodding his head a little as it picks up, then the words come and it’s like he’s hit with a bludgeon,

‘Here comes the sun, doo doo doo doo-  
Here comes the sun, and I say,  
It’s alright.’

In Thor’s head, another voice comes back to haunt him, and he leans forward with his hands on the table, trying to keep his breathing under control. No.

No, no, no, no, no.

‘Little darling, it’s been a long cold lonely winter.’

(I promise you, brother-)

‘Little darling, it feels like years since it’s been here.’

(The sun-)

‘Here comes the sun-‘

(-will shine on us again.)

‘Here comes the sun, and I say,  
It’s alright.

(Crack. Crunch.)

‘It’s alright.’

(Sightless eyes and blue-tinged lips.)

Thor looks up, sucking in a breath as his chest constricts, and his eyes zero in on Korg and Miek, the glint of metal catches his eye.

A flash of gold and green.

He knows immediately what it is, though he can’t see from the house, and Thor feels the lightning in his veins jump, feels a rage so thick it puts his mind into a haze as he stalks out, brandishing Stormbreaker.

-

“Perishable rock! Perishable rock! I yield! Lightning beats rock!”

Thor barely hears Korg’s incessant ridiculous yelps and Miek’s odd noises, growling as he tries to swing his ax at them again.

A flash of gold and green.

Loki’s helmet and cape.

Where they had found it and why they didn’t give it to him, Thor didn’t know, but his rage at seeing them being so flippantly careless with his little brother’s apparel makes his blood boil, more so when he realizes that the items are more worn than he remembers them being.

A flash of gold and green.

Now, upon closer inspection, dented and scuffed, damaged, not so gleaming nor so vibrant as his memory remembers them to be. How dare they.

How /dare/ they.

“Well um, at least you can get this horny helmet thing back?”

(Rage.)

“Thor! Enough!”

Valkyrie’s voice stops him in his tracks, and Thor looks back at her, at the boy standing behind her, probably the one who went and brought her here. The boy looks scared, eyes wide, face pale - innocent.

(Probably knows more suffering and loss in his young life than he deserves.)

(All your fault.)

‘You should have gone for the head.’

(Rage.)

“Thor!”

He stalks off and calls the Bifrost.

-

Thor demands for a mission as soon as he steps into the headquarters, and Natasha takes one look at him before giving him coordinates. They’d just gotten a report of a gunfight and killing somewhere in one of the East Asian countries.

Thor can’t be bothered with the name, and though the spy didn’t give him details, Thor didn’t need to ask.

They both know it’s Barton.

He doesn’t bother to hear anything else, just leaves and transports himself once more with the Bifrost.

-

When he arrives, Thor is surrounded by a dense forest, and dimly he wonders if he transported himself to a different location, but then something whizzes by his head, and then another, and then he realizes that there are bullets raining down on him.

The anger is still too thick and fresh. His most terrible wound is once again bleeding. Thor takes Stormbreaker and flies up, and his blood is still bubbling inside him that he doesn’t really think.

He just calls for lightning and strikes true- hurling himself down as well to take his ax to battle.

Red clouds his vision and Stormbreaker’s bloodlust flows through him (or perhaps that is his own?), and before long, Thor finds himself beheading people as they run screaming, abandoning their firearms in the face of his ruthlessness.

He cleaves the shoulder of one man, cuts off the arm of another.

He slices through a man’s abdomen and kicks him back as the guts spew across the forest floor.

He takes his weapon and brings it down straight onto a terrified face, splitting the person in half all the way down to the midsection.

When there is nobody left, he stalks back to his last kill and starts to bring Stormbreaker down over and over and over- the squelch of blood and heavy thuds of his weapon the only sound in the otherwise still forest, until he hears rustling.

Thor is ready to raise his ax and fight again, but sees a familiar face, and there’s shock written there before it’s schooled back into a hard expression.

Barton. Clint. Hawkeye.

Thor slowly comes back to his senses, feels how slick with blood Stormbreaker’s handle is, smells the overwhelming stench of copper in the air, tastes it when he inhales too deeply. Thor looks at his work.

Blood. So much blood.

He locks eyes with Barton,

“They deserved it.” Thor hears him say, but the words are hollow to him.

“Tell Nat you found them like this.” Is all the man says before heading off, and Thor stumbles towards the nearest tree and heaves.

(Monster.)

-

When he comes back from the mission, he finds that Val has taken Loki’s helmet and evergreen cape. From the looks of it, she’d even had the horned monstrosity polished and the cape washed and mended - with seidr, most likely - the gold was gleaming and showing him his reflection, and the feel of the cloth was supple and weighty, the former showing none of the scratches and dents it had suffered, the latter showing no signs of wear and tear nor any smidgen of the stains it had.

Thor swallows down convulsively and tries his best to hold his composure when she hands both over to him.

Forward, then back. Forward, then back. This is his life now.

(Let it be over soon.)

He doesn’t take them from Valkyrie though. He’s still covered in blood that’s starting to crust.

(You are a monster.) 

-

Depression

He never goes back to the headquarters or sees any of his comrades again.

Thor falls back into his less (more?) destructive habits.

He goes on trips to Vanaheim for their ale and other blends, to Aflheim for their wine, and more often than not shares a bed with random women who have no inkling as to who he is. When the Aesir in New Asgard manage to recreate mead (though it isn’t as fine or as potent or as good as the one back home, because home no longer exists - not ever), he celebrates by drinking himself into a stupor for an entire week.

Thor does the same thing when he realizes it’s been two years since everything went to Hel, two years since his failure. He drinks before the voices can come back, but only manages to summon hallucinations instead. They blame him and rub his shortcomings and their vitriol in his face.

Thor tries to banish them by drinking some more.

“Your brother would want you to pick yourself up,” Valkyrie tells him when she confronts him in his shack the next morning (was it the next morning? A week later? A month? He didn’t know), “He wouldn’t like what you’re doing to yourself.”

(No, he wouldn’t. Loki would have wanted to live.)

“You don’t know anything about him. He’d come and tell me if he isn’t pleased with it.”

“He’s /dead/, Thor,” Val says bluntly, and Thor growls, looking away. “Loki is dead, all but a few of the Aesir are dead, half the universe is dead. You have to stop doing… /this/, and start doing something for those of us who are still alive. We can’t get them back, but we… we can’t die with them.”

(Why not?)

(There is no moving forward. Not for him.)

“Leave.”

-

He wakes up to the sound of shuffling in the living area, Korg and Miek no doubt playing a game of rock, paper, scissors to determine who would come in and wake him this time. It’s been another year and a half, and he’d grown accustomed to this familiarity now.

“Hey, you awake man?” Korg calls from the doorway a minute later, and Thor grunts in response. “Yeah well, we’re having breakfast so you know, feel free to join us. We got pop tarts and coffee, and an open invitation to talk about feelings.”

Thor grunts again, feeling annoyance bubble in his chest. Ever since Valkyrie had tried to get him to talk one night about his mental well-being, Korg had taken it upon himself to offer the same thing every morning.

He doesn’t need to /talk/. 

He is a god.

(Are you, though?)

Before the other can come back and pester him further, Thor gets up and makes his way to the bathroom. He can barely recognize himself these days. His hair gets matted whenever he forgets cut it, as does his beard. His eyes have the perpetual bags under them and the bloodshot color from entire days spent drinking, and the mismatched colors only serve to make it more pronounced. His lips are cracked and bleeding in patches, and the pallor of his skin is a far cry from the once sun-kissed tones, looking sallow instead. His impressive physique is diminished to the point where he wears oversized clothing just to hide how much muscle he’d lost. Overall, he looks scraggly and unkempt. 

When he remembers to though, Thor cuts his hair short. He doesn’t know why, but he does it anyways, even if it’s only marginally better than if he leaves it tangled. It isn’t the methodical way it was styled during his time in Sakaar, and he never lets anyone else do it, but some days, his long hair reminds him of a time when he was still a prince- and that had to go.

Because he was a prince once, but now what was he?

A false king.

(But even that isn’t true, because he has always been wretched, never deserving of his titles.)

(Wretched and spoiled and brash and stupid.)

(Unfit to rule. Just like Loki had said.)

However, though he’d loath to admit it out loud, in the privacy of his own mind, he could at least face the truth. Thor cut his hair and his beard in the hopes that one day, he’ll be brave (or stupid) enough to make the small nicks he inflicts and turn them into larger wounds, deeper wounds - that’s why he doesn’t so much as cut, but chop and carve with Stormbreaker.

He plays with the idea every time he brings he sharp edge near his head. He could slit his neck. But he’s too much of a coward.

‘You should have aimed for the head.’

(Snap.)

‘I promise you, brother. The sun will shine on us again.’

(The crunch of bones and final escape of breath.)

‘Here comes the sun, doo doo doo doo-‘

(Snap.)

(Unworthy. Failure.)

‘Here comes the sun, and I say,  
It’s alright.  
It’s alright.’

(No. It’s not.)

Thor drinks himself into a stupor after his shearing session.

It’s only eight in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Beatles song was a suggestion from one of my friends after I told her I was writing something and let her read the first chapter. It’s also the inspiration behind the title, I was going to call this “and the sun did shine”, but that sounded lame as soon as she suggested the song to me. Any and all grammatical errors and plot holes and everything wrong that you may find are all my fault though haha (I know... I just know... my tenses...) also, I’m posting this while using my tablet, so if there are any weird formats, I’ll get to fixing those when I find the time to sit down with a lappy! Once again, thanks for your interest and taking the time to read!

**Author's Note:**

> Have I mentioned how much I love Thor? And it isn't because he's hot (lies! kidding, though he is ridiculously attractive), but because though he's basically a god, his flaws are so, so human. I just really appreciate the struggle of an otherwise all-powerful being with redemption and doing the right thing and just trying to be a good person. It makes me feel okay about not being the best or all that, and makes me strive to be better. 
> 
> Anyways, I'm writing this when I have spare time, so I don't know when the next chapter will be - also, it's been AGES since I've written anything, so my apologies if the tenses and grammar and whatnot are all out of whack! Many, many, many thanks if you took the time to read :)


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